Running after a suitcase and trying not to drown in its world
by Angyield
Summary: Or, Tina manages to persuade Graves to follow the awkward yet incredibly touching British boy Newt on his journey to write about and protect the beasts of the wizarding world, even though said British boy insists that he isn't of the age to be called that way anymore and he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. [Tina/Newt, Graves/Newt]
1. He thinks of how respected he was

Welp, not like I got any other work to upload or something, but Newt stole my heart last sunday and I had sudden inspiration.

I have a few ideas for this work, but I don't know yet where this is exactly going. As I said in the tags, might end in a relationship or not, might be polyamory or not, might be gen or not... At this point, no one knows. I'm just trying to find an excuse to write and explore a possible relationship, romantic or not, between Newt and Percival. (I'm speculating a lot about Percival's personnality too...) It also won't be canon compliant with the following movies, but I think that's a given.

Another thing, English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes or awkward phrasing, I'm still trying to improve my skills~

* * *

 _Full summary:_

Graves has troubles dealing with the pity he could notice in his coworkers' eyes, the theft of his identity and Grindelwald's shadow still hovering above his mind. As for Tina, the Auror daily routine felt tasteless in her throat. Both of them couldn't stand the hypocrisy of their world anymore and the wizard who feared humans more than he feared his creatures might just be the answer.

Or, Tina manages to persuade Graves into following the awkward yet incredibly touching British boy Newt on his journey to write about and protect the beasts of the wizarding world. Even though said British boy insists that he isn't of the age to be called that way anymore and he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

Also, Graves might not be aware he is getting involved in what might possibly be the strangest road trip he has ever heard of.

* * *

 _ **Before:**_

"Sir, the no-maj has been obliviated, there is nothing more we can learn from him."

"Report to the President once you're done."

"Yes, sir!"

Graves did not give the wizard going back to his coworkers a glance, staring at the gaping hole left in the pavement of New York City's streets. He was watching without seeing; he had been the first to arrive hours ago, he was sure he could practically draw the entire thing from memories alone.

Stones had fallen from the buildings, so close to each other in this narrow alley, and they had broken upon falling on the ground, leaving something that looked like the aftermath of an explosion, at least to the No-Majs' eyes. It certainly seemed so, as long lashes which looked like burn marks covered the cracked walls, smoke hovered in the air and the pavement was left open, allowing anyone to see the underground level of the city. _"At least it won't be too hard to hide the truth from the No-Majs,"_ was Graves' only comforting thought.

"You think this is Grindelwald?"

Percival slightly turned but barely, already recognizing the voice of his superior. He did not need eyes to notice Seraphina Picquery's presence, as her aura was enough to draw attention and silence around her. He simply nodded, mumbling a "Madam" under his breath.

"I do not think, I know."

"It could be a simple duel between two wizards gone wrong."

"You know as well as I do that this is him. Everything fits and it's only what he's looking for, creating a goddamn mess and panic in our ranks."

"I was simply asking. I know very well this couldn't be anyone else."

Graves shivered from the cold of New York's winter nights, his scarf and coat not nearly enough to warm him. Adding the dismal atmosphere to it didn't help.

There was nothing more he could do here. Yet, he didn't feel like leaving for now. The past few weeks had been hard on him, and on everyone else in the Macusa. Grindelwald left no traces behind him, but he sure hit quickly everywhere in the entire world, always slipping past their fingers. Percival was growing more and more frustrated as the days passed and scenes like this one happened once a week, then twice, then a bit more each passing week. He just didn't get it. Was the dark mage simply having fun, tormenting them, tormenting him? The Auror started to wonder if everything seeming so hazardous wasn't just a part of a much bigger scheme.

Well, this wasn't the time to get paranoid… Or maybe it was. He couldn't afford to lose focus, especially when he knew the damn rat was certainly closer to them than he had been before.

He looked away from the hole as a wizard team from the Minister started to close it. He glanced behind him; another one was trying to disperse the forming crowd at the entrance of the alley. Probably wizards, as No-Majs were kept at bay with a few charms for the time being, even their own police forces. No-Majs couldn't be trusted with anything magical, not even the higher-graded ones. As for his own team of Aurors, they had been the fastest to arrive, but each left on their own, following their own instincts and trails. This was going to be a long night.

"I want every Auror available that we have on this, Mister Graves. We are not letting him escape the city once again, he must be close."

"I know, Madam. They're already on it," he answered, frowning even more, sensing a headache coming. They both walked towards the main street, Macusa agents deciding not to bother them for now. When they stopped, Picquery gracefully faced him, staring with intense eyes that did not leave room for anything else but respect.

"I am fully leaving it in your hands. There is no one else I would trust for something of such importance."

"I know. You don't need to say it," he said. Though strictly professional, they had known each other for so many years now, words so solemn weren't needed anymore.

The President nodded, with a smile so small that he almost didn't see it. She sighed, greeted a working agent walking past her with a nod. She made a move to walk away, then she stopped again.

"Also, Graves?"

"What is it, Madam the President?"

"Please be careful. You're the best agent that we have, we can not allow to lose you now in such a critical time."

"I'll make sure to be."

In less than a second, the air distorted around her and she was gone. Graves let out yet another sigh.

This was going to be a very long night.

The moment he moved, every Macusa agent was on him, asking for orders and reporting everything they knew. A few Aurors were among them, the less experimented ones. The other ones had already left after all and they could be trusted to be careful with their own safety.

Orders were given without another thought, as if it was a second nature to him. No one questioned him, they obeyed without discussing, admiration in their eyes, trying to bring honor to the man who had stopped so many mages of wicked intentions. Each of them had their tasks: preventing No-Majs' from getting closer until everything was clear, taking contact with the No-Majs' authorities aware of wizards' existence, spreading investigation teams all over the city, letting another one behind to make sure any trace of magic was gone. They needed eyes and ears everywhere.

* * *

 ** _Now:_**

He used to think of his office as his second home. A place where he would spend most of his time, if not more than his actual home. There wasn't much in his life except his Auror duties, but he didn't dwell too much on it.

After Grindelwald, he didn't feel comfortable in there anymore.

Percival remembered well the moment he finally woke up from his living nightmare, only to learn that everything had already been over. Worse, everything he had tried to achieve had either been crushed or someone else had accomplished it. Goldstein had had the time reintegrate the Macusa during the entire time he was absent – if absent was the right word for it, he couldn't think of anything else. Even worse, that poor kid, Credence, a poor lost soul who needed support that a 'family' couldn't give him, was dead. The implications were heavy on his shoulders, already hunched by too much weight and memories.

He had tried so much to do what he could for this child. He truly did, as an actual favor for Goldstein. She was too sensitive and hot-headed, but her intentions were pure enough for him and he valued each of his subordinates. If the protocol wanted her to be fired, he wasn't heartless nonetheless, and did what she couldn't do for the kid. He just didn't have enough time to take him away from his 'mother'.

Now that he thought of it, it probably would have been for the best if he didn't approach him. Credence wouldn't have given everything he owned up to his own soul to Grindelwald if Percival hadn't tried so hard to get him to trust him.

The simple thought of Grindelwald being held down there, somewhere in the Macusa Headquarters before being sent to either the American wizard prison or the terribly famous British one was almost unbearable for him. To sit in his office, knowing that the dark mage was only a few feet from him... He could feel his anger building up in his throat and chest, threatening to burst out.

Fortunately or not, the President had forbidden him to get closer.

He had read the reports, of course, as soon as he had awoken. It was the way he learned that the capture of Grindelwald, the goal he had been working for so many weeks and months, was the work of a mere civilian. A highly dangerous one if he believed what he read in the reports. Valuable for his expertise on largely unknown beasts and creatures, but dangerous nonetheless, as he suspected that said reports sounded evasive for a reason.

As he walked inside the Macusa main hall, he ignored the murmurs following his path and the glances he received.

It wasn't different from before. Obtaining such a high seat in the ministry gave birth to rumors and a mix of fear and respect among the ranks, especially because he wasn't known to be tender in either his methods or with his subordinates.

Yet, if whispers were an usual spectacle, their nature had changed. He could not read minds like Miss Goldstein's sister could, yet he did not need to in order to understand the gist of it. Doubts. Loss of respect. Compassion. Pity. Mockery for some of them.

His lost battle, abduction and steal of identity had left its traces and it was already too late for him to get back the status and respect he used to receive. It was alright. He could deal with it. He never paid much attention to what people thought of him. As long as they were competent enough with their duties, he couldn't care less about them. Loneliness was an old friend of his.

"Mister Graves! Mister Graves, wait!"

An Auror ran down the corridor towards him, however, it did not stop his fast walking. He glanced at him; a tall one, much taller than him, skinny and fancy clothes, and quite an unpleasant tone in his voice. With a nod, he urged him to talk at once.

"I thought you were still on permission, did the President allowed you to go back to work?"

"I don't see how this is any of your business, I feel fine enough to do so."

"Well, it's… Everyone in the Aurors' office has been doing a great job and working real hard during your absence, so we thought that if you wanted to take even more rest, we would manage, and…"

"And?" Graved added as he stopped to face his subordinate. Said man bit his lips, looked elsewhere.

"And… We all know what happened to you, so we will fully understand if you don't want to get back at the head of the office for now, I mean, it's your right, and-"

"I know very well what happened as well," Percival interrupted him. The man averted his eyes. "Like I said, none of this is your business, I would like it very much if you all could focus on your work instead of me. Thank you for your concern."

Silence settled around them as the Auror office was left stunned by his sudden assertion. A single firm glance made them all look back down at their desks and conversations resumed, although quieter. The Auror who had stopped him nodded and excused himself. Percival took another look at the wizards and witches under his orders before entering his office and closing the door behind him in such a manner that no one would dare knock. He threw his coat on the seat usually destined for guests and made his way towards his own.

"Damn," he growled under his breath, a hand supporting his forehead.

He closed his eyes, frowning. Everything felt so frustrating. The look in people's eyes, they all talked to him as if he was made of a really thin glass ready to crack and break at anything. Hadn't he proved himself enough during all those years? Some others wore pesky smirks and lifted eyebrows on their face, delighted at the sight of the Director of Magical Security being brought down this way. People were either hungry to steal his position and power or frightened of what he could do. Or maybe Grindelwald was still in their mind. But all believed he was nothing more than the shell of the man he used to be.

(He tried not to think too much about whether this was true or not.)

Percival Graves was used to loneliness, yet he never felt so isolated.

Suddenly, the so familiar corridors and his office didn't bring him the usual comforting sensation any longer. He didn't mind paperwork, yet the piles of white sheets waiting for his signature appeared to be more than they should have been. The air was cold, and shadows danced with glee in the Foe-Glass stuck between two bookshelves in a corner of the room.

He sighed, and with a swift of his wand, the wooden door of his office opened bluntly.

"Miss Goldstein, are you planning on standing behind that door all day?"

Porpentina Goldstein appeared to be speechless, as she always was when confronted with him. She licked her lips in hesitation, holding her heavy coat with her hands crossed in front of her, a few locks of her short hair look curled, still slightly wet from the rainy weather. Her eyes went everywhere, but at him, as he kept staring at her face. He was used to it, but sometimes her fumbling attitude had a certain talent to get on his nerves. Especially right now.

"Well?"

* * *

 **A/N:** (Work's alternative title is Newtiepie the cutie pie but somehow I needed something a bit more serious.)

I took inspiration for the Before/Now format directly from 'A Comforting Presence' by ao3 user You_Light_The_Sky, I thank them for allowing me to use it!

I'll try to update as soon as I can, but you know how it is, real life matters and such, and other works to update... I'll try my best though! I might also repost it if Fantastic Beasts gets a category on its own.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! You can visit me at my tumblr (a-ngyie) if you want~


	2. She thinks of how she can't let it go

_**Before:**_

Porpentina Goldstein always knew what she wanted to do with her life.

She was a feisty one, a child almost impossible to tame, bringing both pride and exasperation to her parents. Always asking why things were like they were, why it wasn't different, and _Mama how does it work_ , and _Papa why do I have to do this_ , and _Mama why do No-Majs hate us_ , and _Papa why don't they like Queenie at school_.

"People prefer to keep their secrets safe inside their hearts, sweetie, that's all."

Needless to say, Tina – as her sister liked to tease her with the nickname she found to be too childish – wasn't much happy with this kind of answer their parents kept giving her.

Queenie only smiled at each of her questions and her reaction upon receiving vague answers that would never satisfy her. That's what Queenie always did, especially when Tina was thinking out loud (or not) about how unfair kids of their age treated her sister at school. Queenie always wore a smile on her reddish lips and glee in her eyes, as if she couldn't get enough of her sister's love. Tina didn't need her sister's natural gift for reading minds to understand it, although it only made her pout even more each time, because _"you shouldn't be smiling because people are jerks with you, Quee'. Stop laughing!"_

Sometimes, their parents wondered who the oldest was among the two of them. Queenie was calm, endowed with wisdom that brought great contrast to her demeanor that suited a child of her age. Porpentina, she had the same wisdom; their parents couldn't be more proud of the intelligence and sense of justice their two daughters had been born with. Still, Tina had her own ways of expressing it, and she wasn't as accepting and gentle as her sister was.

 _"Tina, did you have a fight with other children at school last week? And don't lie, I've received yet another letter from your teachers,"_ their mother would write in her letters during the school year.

Tina never lied because she has always been taught not to, so she only told the truth. _"They called Quee' a freak, mom." "They were bothering a kid just because he was weaker than them." "They were being stupid, mom."_

"Tina, I could never be prouder of you than I already am, but wearing your heart on your sleeve that way never ends well," her father said to her one day. She didn't get it, she only sent a puzzled look to him. He smiled and told her she would understand on her own on day, as he wouldn't even dream of changing the way his little girl was.

The day she learned of the Macusa, she had never been more fascinated with it than with anything else. Suddenly, Auror sounded like everything she needed. So yes, Porpentina Goldstein always knew what she wanted to do with her life, sort of.

And because the two sisters were inseparable, despite the fights they could have when growing up, mostly because of their different visions of things, Queenie decided she would follow her older sister wherever she wanted to go. (Of course, they had a bit of a fight after that, as Tina asserted she should do what would make her happy and not think of her, but she ran out of arguments when Queenie answered that making sure her sister didn't bring too much trouble already made her more than happy.)

They never thought they would both fail the entrance exam despite being more than capable witches, but they did and it didn't stop them.

"A mix between the two of you would have brought a perfect balance for the job," the Auror examiner ended before closing the doors of the Macusa before them.

But nothing stopped Porpentina from reaching her goals, right?

As she worked more and more, she got tender with age, not because she lacked faith in her convictions, but because both her sister and mother's gentleness grew on her. She understood things she didn't when she was younger, and she mostly realized than forcing things never worked well.

Queenie never followed her like they had dreamt of it. Tina passed the second time, Queenie didn't, and it was with a wistful smile that she settled for a simple desk job at the ministry, saying that at least she was close enough to keep an eye on her big sister, now that it was only the two of them.

* * *

 _ **Now:**_

Newt Scamander was like a storm, he had swept through the city, dropping and picking up his beasts like the daydreaming man that he was and then left it destroyed and empty of noises. At least it was like it felt like for Tina.

It was like there was a life before Scamander and another one after him. She almost felt pity for the No-Majs as she walked in New York City's streets, knowing they would never remember the wonders he brought in both wizards and non-wizards' little confined world they thought to be safe and flawless. Everything had been so fast, less than a week, but she had seen much more during said week than in several years.

She thought herself to be passionate, but she had realized she wasn't much compared to the British wizard. All made of awkwardness and courtesy, anyone could think he was the law-abiding type. But he wasn't, as he decided to follow what he believed in despite the dangers, dangers from both creatures and humans. It was he who had pushed her to fight back, to try to take Credence away from the monster he used to call his mother, to fight Grav- Grindelwald. She had felt lost without the frame her Auror status used to provide her when she got fired, because it had always been what she wanted in her life. Scamander had shown her that the law wasn't always right.

She only had the time to have a slight glimpse of his world, yet she wanted to see more. Her life after the so-called storm was as empty as New York's streets. Mostly because she didn't feel sheltered in the Macusa anymore.

The day she got back to work, she was welcomed with applause and congratulating words. She was known as the one who helped catch Grindelwald now, when weeks before she used to be called the enraged one who couldn't think rationally. It was an unsettling course of events. Of course, Tina could have never been happier to take back her job, but then she was reminded of her mother teaching her to never lie, and she got welcomed back with _"I always knew you were one of our best assets in this office, they should have never fired you"_ from the very same people who had looked down on her, and then she thought to herself: _"No, you don't believe that."_

She realized she had troubles to move on and let things go, but she wasn't the only one.

* * *

"Quee'? Are you home?" She asked as she closed the door of their tiny apartment behind her. Silence. She glanced at the clock on the wall next to the window and sighed. Queenie wasn't usually out at his hour, but Tina had a good idea of where she was. Her guess was confirmed when half an hour later, the entrance door was slowly and silently pushed open.

"Did you go and see Mister Kowalski again, Queenie?"

Her little sister seemed startled.

"Oh, Tina, you're already home? You were thinking about staying late at work this morning, though…" At her sister's scowling look, Queenie bit her red lips, dropping the fake light demeanor. "Yes, I did," she answered, sitting down on their couch.

Tina sighed, joining her. "Queenie, you know what I think of this."

"Like you wouldn't do the same if you were in my place," Queenie mumbled.

"I- What? Look, we're not having this argument again, just… I don't want you to get hurt, alright? It's not your fault, nor his, but he'll never remember what you two shared and even if you two get close again… It'll be a heavy thing on your shoulders, those memories."

"I know, Tina, I know," her sister interrupted her, but she was probably trying to convince herself more than Tina. "Just… I just want to keep an eye on him, okay?" She looked up to met her eyes with such a begging expression that Tina decided it was enough of a big sister scolding for tonight. Instead, she gently rubbed her shoulder to comfort her. After her moment, Queenie seemed to get herself back together and with a warm smile, they decided it was time for dinner. It was when they were cleaning up in silence that Queenie suddenly exclaimed:

"Tina… You're… Oh!" Tina raised a puzzled eyebrow, silently urging her to continue. "This… I mean… You're thinking of leaving, right?"

"... What on earth are you babbling about?"

"Oh no, no, don't mind me, I was just thinking out loud," she caught herself with a knowing smile and a wink. Tina frowned, completely clueless, before deciding it when yet another one of her sister's quirks.

The next morning could have been an ordinary one, if it weren't for Percival Graves unexpectedly showing up at the Aurors' office. Tina had only had a few occasions to see him after… After the whole chaos a certain dark mage left in his path. She wished to pay him a visit, but apparently she wouldn't need to, she realized as she watched a few of her coworkers surrounding him to welcome him back, but one had a different approach that didn't end well, just as Tina expected. Graves had never been one for courtesy and social manners.

She kept staring at him until he closed the door of his private office behind him. They all exchanged looks, wondering what to do until they decided it was probably for the best to leave him be for the moment.

Tina couldn't deny it, she was worried about him. Granted, they were not that close, but he was something like her mentor, took her under his wing ever since she became an Auror. She wouldn't dare imagine what kind of ordeal he went through. But it wasn't like she could actually come up to him and just ask. Not with him anyway, he certainly wasn't the type to deal with what he felt, and it was what scared her.

"-stein? Goldstein, can you _kindly_ stop daydreaming at work?"

"Huh?" She said bluntly as she was snatched from her thoughts.

"Geez, Goldstein, we didn't get you back here so you could warm up a seat for doing nothing," one of her male co-workers said, leaning a bit over her desk, deposing a pile of paperwork on it with a soft thump. "Look, there's all this pile of things and letters coming from the British Ministry of Magic and I know it's supposed to be the International Relations Department's job, but they insisted that they needed answers from people who have been the closest to Grindelwald's capture, so those ones are yours," he said. Then, he hesitated before adding: "And, huh… Well, be careful with it, those damn British's still use the old way to send things with their damn owls, it's freaking disgusting. Can't they just use the normal way? We're not in the goddamn fourteenth century anymore for God's sake," he continued rambling while getting back to his own desk.

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the first envelope on the top of the pile. She started reading each one of them, almost sighing each time as it mostly consisted of people asking for reports and details she couldn't even remember. Sometimes, paperwork was the worst. They had already written everything in their own reports, couldn't the British ministry read those ones? There was one a bit more interesting than the others, and Tina glanced one more time at her superior's closed door.

Oh, what the hell.

She got up and walked with newfound determination towards said door, only to stop right before it, a hand raised to knock frozen in the air. Well, this was going to be more difficult than she thought it would. She somehow considered giving up for now and maybe make another attempt when her superior might be more open to conversation, but when she made a move to turn back, the door suddenly opened without a warning.

"Miss Goldstein, are you planning on standing behind that door all day?"

Uh. Well, to be fair, she should have expected it.

"Well?"

"Hum, Mister Graves, I… I can come back later if you want me to, I mean, I-"

"Come in, Miss Goldstein, I don't have all day."

She shut her mouth at once, nodded and closed the door behind her, clutching the letter in her right hand against her chest. She took a few steps towards him, her eyes lingering around his tie, but not his eyes, as she knew he was staring right at her. Finally, after what seemed to be forever, Graves started talking.

"Listen, Miss Goldstein, I don't have the talent your sister has for legilimency, so unless you don't start talking, I suggest you do come back later."

"Mister Graves, I…" She started, a bit louder than she wanted. Then more softly, she said: "Mister Graves, I first want to apologize to you, for not noticing you weren't with us anymore."

Graves raised an eyebrow, the glint in his eyes impossible for her to decrypt. Had she said something wrong?

"However, I… I do think it might be a bit early for you to get back to work, it's only been a week or two after all, and…" Seeing that he was going to interrupt her, she quickly added: "I am just worried about you, Sir, I am sorry, but I think it would be a good thing for you to-"

"Miss Goldstein, get to the point."

"... Here." She gave him the letter stamped with the seal of the British Ministry of Magic. He took it after a moment, quickly read it. He seemed to think for a few minutes then, minutes she spent fidgeting in front of his desk.

"Why did you think it would be a good idea to bring me this?"

"I… Listen, Sir," she said as she sat down on the chair usually reserved for guests, "I don't know what you went through. But here is what I think: you are not well enough, because Grindelwald," she ignored the darkening look in his eyes at the name, "is still there, very close to us and… It's an opportunity. To talk about what happened. I know it's not like talking to therapists or anything of the sort, I know you would never go see one by your own decision and I won't force you. But this… It's an opportunity to move on, for you, for the both of us. Help them."

Silence answered her. He scrutinized every inch of her face, but she didn't move. For a moment, she remembered the few moments they shared as mentor and protégée years ago when she was still acting without thinking, telling everything that passed through her mind, not matter how crude it could be.

"You do realize what you're asking me, right?"

"I do."

"So, let me get this straight, Miss Goldstein, you're asking me to go all the way to England, to tell about my whole experience at Grindelwald's mercy so they know what to expect once the bastard is going to get transferred to them for Azkaban? Tell that, to a bunch of bureaucrats who only care about their goddamn reports whereas I won't even tell the Healers about it?"

"Yes, that's what I'm asking. Suggesting, Sir, I'm merely suggesting."

A few more minutes passed, only broken when Graves nonchalantly threw the letter on his desk. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his fingers in front of his chest.

"Why?" He asked.

"So you can move on, Sir," she repeated. "We need to give the British Ministry everything they need to make sure Grindelwald never goes out again. I'm sure it can only help us sleep better at night, am I wrong?"

This time, he closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against his eyelids, allowing Tina to notice how tired he looked, how deep the dark rings on his face were and how pale he was compared to his usual self.

"... You'll never fail to surprise me, Miss Goldstein, in both a good and a bad way. I will think about it," he finally said, dismissing her with a hand gesture.

She got up with a slight smile. She hadn't lost her touch apparently, and she knew him well enough to understand how his psyche worked. She now could only hope this little suggestion would actually work for the both of them.

"One more thing," he stopped her when she was about to open the door. "The letter, it mentioned someone else."

"Oh, you mean… Ah yes, well, he's part of their Ministry and I suppose they'll have the same kind of questions for him as well, so we might meet him there."

"I've read about him in the reports. What kind of man is he, that Scamander?"

"He is… Well. Certainly something, Sir," she hesitantly said, remembering Newt's love for dangerous beasts, mostly _illegal_ ones, and Graves' own love for respecting the laws.

He nodded, skeptical.

"Alright, miss Goldstein, pack your luggage, we are leaving tomorrow morning."

Her eyes widened a bit, but she quickly regained control of her joy upon hearing this. She could only be happy and hope it would help Graves enough.

When Tina got back home that night, she opened the door and searched for her sister.

"Queenie, I'm-"

"You're leaving for Britain, I know."

"... Of course you do. You even knew before I did.

"Well, what can I say? I could make a great fortune teller for the No-Majs by reading their mind, don't you think? I would know their own intentions before themselves, they would instantly buy it."

"Please don't do that, that's illegal."

Queenie only laughed, then waved her wand. A suitcase came out levitating of their bedroom.

"I took the liberty to prepare it."

"What would I do without you?"

"You'd be lost, big sister."

Tina smiled, then put her arms around Queenie. What would she do without her indeed.

"I'm sure there's a lot of interesting things in Britain, right?" Queenie teased her with much innuendos in her voice.

"Do me a favor and take care of Mister Kowalski while I'm gone," Tina answered back with a falsely irritated smile.

"Say hi to Newton for me then."

'Tomorrow morning' came soon enough, and Tina was already present in New York's harbor, her suitcase firm in her hand, their recommendation letter from the President herself safely in it. When she spotted the familiar figure of her boss approaching her, she did a good job of noticing but not mentioning the increasing dark circles under his eyes or the hollow look in them. She could only hope her little improvised trip would do its wonders.

The journey in itself wasn't noteworthy in itself as it took six entire days. They could not use apparition or any other method of transportation as the risk were higher the further their destination was. Tina however kept a close observation on Graves, who seemed to get more and more easily irritable each passing day. It was obvious he didn't sleep a lot, and when he did, it certainly wasn't pleasant.

It was the first time Tina set foot on the British soil. She certainly wasn't there for tourism, but she wondered how different the atmosphere could be. America and England had very different magical legislation and more often than enough, the two countries would argue over which one had the best one. Tina couldn't really say she preferred her own, as it was the one she grew up with, but ever since she got introduced to Newt, she couldn't help but think an original legislation on beasts in America would be better for all of them. But it wasn't her place to tell.

"God, I forgot about their love for those goddamn birds, even inside the building," Graves groaned as he ducked a passing owl when they finally entered the British Ministry of Magic.

Tina felt like a child discovering an entire new world. It looked like her own ministry, but displaying much older history and in a different way. There were hundreds of working wizards around her, discussing, arguing, joking with an accent that now sounded so familiar and yet different when it didn't come out of Newt's mouth.

"May I help you?" A man asked them, interrupting their - well, it was mostly Tina's - admiration of their current environment. He probably was in charge of guiding lost visitors.

"Yes, we're here-"

"We're here on the behalf of the Macusa. Percival Graves, Porpentina Goldstein," Graves said, not bothering with any form of politeness, shrugging when Tina sent him a scolding look.

The man seemed to think for a moment. A notepad flew out of his chest pocket, along with a quill, that quickly flipped through a hundred pages of the thick notepad before stopping on what it was searching for, excitedly - as excited a quill could look - pointing it out to its owner.

"Ah, yes, the Americans! Well, it seemed you're here early, we were not expecting you before a few other days. It might take a few hours for our men and women here to receive you, my apologies. Is there anything I can do for you while you're waiting?"

"Can you tell me where the Department of the Regulation of Magical Creatures is?" Tina promptly asked before Graves could answer.

"It is on the fourth level, miss, the lifts are this way," he pointed out to her. She thanked him with a warm smile, before walking towards the area, forcing her boss to follow her.

"What are you doing, Miss Goldstein?" Graves asked, visibly annoyed but still following her.

"Sir, we have a few hours to kill and there is someone I'd like to meet."

"If it's that Scamander boy, can't it wait?"

She didn't argue that Newton was hardly a boy, instead she nodded negatively and entered an elevator, asking for the fourth level, ignoring the look that Graves sent to her, even if it felt like daggers. She was used to it.

… Wait, what was she doing, she asked herself as the doors opened to a long corridor surrounded by at least a dozen offices, and she could hear muffled noises coming from everywhere and they certainly weren't human. Perhaps Newt wasn't even there. And even if he was, perhaps he didn't want to see her. He was probably too busy with his book and he had promised her he would give it to her in person. But perhaps…

She thought of Graves' exhausted appearance over the past few days and his mental state she assumed to be decreasing. She thought of Graves' features slowly changing into Grindelwald's under Newton's wand and she thought of his battle with the dark lord, and she thought of how they would have never found her boss alive if it weren't for the Magizoologist. Then, she remembered how Scamander had pushed her to act for Credence without even trying, how he gave her hope just with his presence and when she glanced at Graves now, perhaps it was a silly thing to believe in, but perhaps Newton's kind soul could bring the same kind of hope to Percival Graves.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Wow, I am utterly speechless when I saw how much views, subscriptions this little thing already got with only one chapter. Hope you all enjoy this one, your support is very appreciated!

I am obviously taking a lot of liberties concerning the character's personnalities and stories, please bear with me haha.

Also yay, we'll finally get Newtiepie in the next chapter! I might not update that fast though, this one got written unexpectedly quickly haha. (Also I'm still thinking of where this is going in terms of relationships - as you can read in the tags posted only on ao3 though - so I tried not to follow to much the end of the movie, but we'll see.)


	3. He thinks of how awkward this is

_**Before:**_

Newt Scamander was a respected expert in his field, but such an odd one that people usually asked someone else, a colleague of the Beasts Department of the ministry, when they were in need.

In fact, if you ever needed something to ask a member of the Beasts Department, you would have to be brave enough to set foot on the fourth floor. To be fair, every floor had its colors and eccentricities: everyone knew of the ongoing war between the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the one for the Magical Sports and Games, because apparently, _"those Aurors really need something to get rid of their wands up their as-um, their pockets, Sir, I meant pockets"_ , but the Sports Department was deemed as too laid-back and in _"fresh need of a reminder of what a law is"_. Pranks in the form of cursed paperwork ( _"Because nothing annoys an Auror more than unfinished paperwork."_ ) were not a rare sight, but so were dozens of Howlers sent at the same time to the Sports Department. Meanwhile, the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was filled with people who always seemed to have lost a bit of their souls.

But all of that wasn't much next to the Magical Creatures Department. The fourth floor was an entire adventure in itself. As soon as you stepped out of the lift, you could realize your mistake as screams, both human and not so human, could be heard. More often than not, creatures you wouldn't even expect the existence would slam a door open, usually followed by a distraught running wizard. Sometimes, if you were lucky (although it depends on your own definition of the word), you could witness or at least hear an explosion of some kind near the laboratories. Good thing the other floors were magically protected from both the sounds or the quakes. If you really needed something to ask, you would have to cross the corridor and this was not a simple task.

So everyone in the British Ministry learned to send owls and pray that it would reach its destination unscathed. It was much easier and relieving for everyone.

In the middle of this mayhem lived Newt. Some of his colleagues of the Department said he had a gift for his creatures, some others said he was a weird one. But he was skilled, everyone agreed with it, even his former schoolmates who used to mock him from afar.

He lived in his brother's shadow, even though he had done a part of the job during the Great War too. Not a lot of people knew about it. It was meant to be this way, anyway. So when someone met Newton Scamander, magizoologist, they saw Newton Scamander, Theseus Scamander's little brother and what a disappointment he was. People learned to ask someone else when confronted with a beast, because none of them thought well of Newt's vision of the wizarding world, willing to protect rather than exterminate.

Not that he minded much. Humans were difficult to decipher. It wasn't the case with beasts. They were not predictable, but they were easier to understand, to please, to take care of. Also loyal and straightforward, he didn't need to create shields and walls around him with them. They were all he needed. Them, his home built inside his suitcase and his cramped office.

That was just who he was. Newton Scamander, an expert in magizoology and in annoying people.

* * *

 _ **Now:**_

"-don't think he should be in his office right now, but you can wait for him insi-Oh dear God, Scamander, just _why_."

"Oh, good morning William, I was just-"

He sure made a good image, standing with one foot on his desk chair threatening to collapse at any moment, the other trying to maintain his book shelf standing, a humming Puffskein brandished in his left hand and his wand in the other. His Niffler was on the top of the bookshelf, looking at him with curious eyes, but also with a bit of mischievousness and probably wondering when he was going to fall. At the sound of the door opening, the Niffler's head went up and he started to dash towards the new exit…

But thin hands grabbed him before he could go further and he whined, as the chair finally broke under Newt's weight and the latter fell to the ground with a loud noise and a shout.

"Oh my goodness, Newt, are you alright?"

That accent sounded familiar. Startled, Newt got up from behind his desk (not before bumping his head against it of course) at once, and stared, mouth open. A green stick-like creature appeared between his messy strands of hair to stand on the top of his head, its own mouth open in a perfect imitation of the wizard's current state.

"Miss Gol- I mean, Tina?"

There she stood, one of the persons he expected to see the least. It certainly felt like yesterday, the moment he said her goodbye after the rain that had wiped out memories for everyone in New York city. But in fact, it had already been a few weeks since that day.

How he would lie to himself if he said he hadn't thought about either the Goldstein sisters or even Jacob, one of the only friends he had made and he had been forced to watch him turn his back to him and forget him. Their little adventure in the big American city, no matter how many troubles and disasters it had brought, it had given him something else he didn't know he needed. Company. Friends. People who didn't look at him like he was some kind of idiotic wizard rambling about things that made no sense.

"No, you know what, I take it back, I'm not sure I want to know. I am just going to… give you time to reunite with your friends and I'm going to take my leave," William, one of his colleagues of the Spirit sub-department, said before closing the door. But Newt was all focused on his friend standing on the other side of the desk, all smiles, fair skin and elegance.

"I'm sorry, I guess I couldn't wait for the book," she joked. On Newt's head, the Bowtruckle that was clutching his hair jumped on the desk, then one more time on Tina's coat. Pickett climbed alongside her arm to reach her shoulder and grabbed a few strands of her own hair, squeaking happy noises. "Hi, Pickett, how have you been sweetie?" She laughed and lightly poked him.

Still dumbfounded, Newt's face broke into a shy smile. "You know, I was not lying when I said I would come back with your own copy of it," he huffed, his head instinctively looking down. But when his eyes crossed hers, there was warmth in her smile, as if they were silently sharing a joke.

"It's… good to see you."

It truly was. Departing from New York had felt like he was leaving something behind. He wasn't gone forever, he had promised to come back, although he had a lot of things to say about American laws concerning magic and such. (But apparently, barging in a country to criticize its system wasn't welcomed, he had learned.)

Tina cleared her throat after what appeared to be a second too much of staring at each other. "Here, let me introduce you to-"

"Mister Graves," Newt finished her sentence, finally noticing the man standing behind her at the doorstep.

He was not that different from his memories. Standing tall and proud, he wore an aura of authority around him that made Newt want to look elsewhere. He never dealt well with rules in general. In fact, instead of dealing, he just dodged them - it had worked so far. Nonetheless, Graves struck at him as someone that couldn't be avoided. He was watching the scene between Tina and Newt with scrutinizing eyes that also roamed the narrow room, as if he was trying to deduce what kind of person Newt was from the mess alone.

Because there wasn't a better word for it: a bookshelf against one of the walls made the office appear to be even smaller and cramped than it already was. His desk was covered in sheets of paper, some of them looking like they had seen better days and were fairly old, probably left forgotten. Some others had scribbled notes and doodles that had nothing to do here on them. Against the other wall was another shelf, on which he put various samples in small jars. And of course, smaller beasts had taken the place as their own secondary habitat when they were not in his case. The still purring Puffskein he had been trying to catch was bouncing off the desk now and a few Fairies had formed a nest months ago on the top of one shelf, they were now watching the newcomers with interest and a few giggles. As for his Niffler, he finally jumped off Tina's grip and darted off, opened his case beneath his desk and disappeared inside.

Well, that was awkward.

Graves seemed bewildered, and this was probably an understatement. Surely offices like this one didn't exist in the Macusa. To be fair, employee like Newt didn't exist either in the American Ministry.

The Auror finally looked to the man himself. Newt straightened his back without thinking under his stare, slightly frowning and his hand made a slight move towards the Puffskein before he thought of stopping it. "This is not Grindelwald", he reminded himself. But his hesitation didn't go unnoticed, as Graves squinted and his lips became a thin line.

Well, that was even more awkward. Newt sure knew how to make positive impressions at the first meeting.

"A pleasure to finally meet you," he finally said, reaching out to the Auror who looked suspiciously at his hand before firmly shaking it without a word.

Between them, Tina glanced at the two of them, clearly hesitant to speak up, although she seemed to have a lot of things to say. On her shoulder, Pickett was imitating her, curious about the man he didn't know yet. Perhaps sensing Newt's distress, he came back to his personal tree, hiding in his curly mess of hair, in order to stare down at Graves with a mix of curiosity and wariness from what he had deemed to be his stronghold, thus beginning some kind of staring contest with a completely dismayed Graves.

(Contest that the Bowtruckle lost when he decided that human was a scary one. Pickett should definitely keep an eye on him if the scary human looked at everyone like that, because Newt sure didn't know how to stay away from danger, and apparently that was his life now. Pickett the Bowtruckle, slayer of Newton Scamander's enemies.)

Newt shushed him with a click of his tongue and gently picked him up to put him in his inside pocket.

"I apologize, I am not used to visitors or receiving anyone," he said, turning to Tina. "Usually people go to William, you just met him, or Matthew, he's much more better to solve problems than I am, so- Well, you know," he shrugged.

Tina only smiled, almost rolling her eyes. "I have a fair idea of it, yes. Maybe I should have warned you of our arrival."

"No, no, it's alright, I mean… But, why are you here? Did something happen with the Macusa?"

Tina paused, threw a look at Graves behind her, her smile vanished. "We… We were asked to come here in order to help with… With Grindelwald's transfer to Azkaban. Considering we were the ones who got to be the closest to him before his capture…"

"Oh," was the only answer Newt could mutter, as he was pondering the implications of it. When he had come back to London, he had been welcomed with both congratulating words and disbelief, as if he could be the one who had contributed to the dark Lord's capture. He had been confronted to his share of questions from the Law Enforcement Department then - one of the few times he had been on the second floor for something _good_ he had done, and not for the troubles he had caused - even though he didn't have much to say. Someone from the Macusa was probably a better choice, especially someone who had seen the wizard up close… Someone like Graves, he realized.

He sent the Auror a sidelong glance that Graves returned him with a raised eyebrow. Newt had troubles sensing differences between him and the man who had taken his place a few months before. His eyes felt like they pierced his entire being and soul, crushing the walls he had around his heart and brain without mercy. It felt hard to hide anything from him, even without speaking or looking at him.

Yet, as the two of them stared once again at each other, New couldn't hide his puzzled look. He could notice the similarities, yes, Grindelwald had made a perfect Graves. Yet, he was sure of a few things: Grindelwald didn't bother showing shoulders slightly hunched by remorse, dark circles and pale skin or the almost imperceptible glint made of both anguish and resentment in his eyes.

Percival Graves could hide it as much as he could, but Newt was not blind to that kind of pain he had seen in each of the wounded beasts he had come across.

"Are you both going to be alright with this?" He finally asked, his eyes darting to Graves. Because if Newt was skilled at soothing wounded creatures, he sure wasn't great at being tactful with humans.

"I believe we'll manage just fine, Mister Scamander," Graves answered with a sharp voice, as Newt realized it was the first time the Auror spoke to him.

Newt looked down and nodded a few times. "Right, right, of course, my apologies."

Then, Newt was totally oblivious to Tina biting her lips and then smashing Graves' foot with her shoe. Although he stayed silent, her boss sent her a scandalized, betrayed look (mixed with a bit of pain), as if she had just insulted his entire family, but she only responded with an exasperated face, crossing her arms in front of her chest. For the love of Merlin's beard, she hadn't dragged the Auror all the way to London so he could terrorize her friend.

It was Graves' turn to clear his throat, he definitely didn't want to deal with a pissed-off Tina Goldstein. The entire room radiated of awkwardness, so much that the Puffskein stopped purring at some point.

"I, um, apologize, Mister Scamander, it was not my intention to…"

"That's quite alright, Mister Graves, I shouldn't have pried into things that doesn't concern me, I…"

 _"Those two are truly disasters,"_ was Tina's only thought. Then, she decided it was probably for the best to break the tension, because she sure couldn't handle it more than she already had: "Would you mind showing us the way, Newt?"

"The way to… Oh, the Auror office? Sure, let me just… I need to finish a few things with that little beast over there," Newt answered with a bit of fondness in his voice, showing the Puffskein on his desk still waiting for attention. Upon Tina's questioning look, he launched without a warning into a series of explanations about the little custard-colored creature. It was quite popular in England as a pet, as it demanded a lot of attention and caring and its soft fur made it quite likeable, but not so much in America, which wasn't surprising considering their views on beasts, even the most harmless ones.

As he talked about his experiments with the little animal's fur and his observation of its behavior, the Puffskein bounced off the desk's surface, only settling down when Tina hesitantly touched it to gently stroke it. She smiled, only half listening to Newt's ramblings, but when she looked at him, she just didn't have the heart to stop him when she realized she had rarely seen him so relaxed. A glance towards Graves told her the Auror was only pretending not to be interested in the British wizard, and he rolled his eyes in exasperation when she sent him a knowing smile. Perhaps she hadn't been so wrong after all, Newt could bring something new in their lives.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I… That's not what you asked at all, you have things to do," Newt suddenly said as he scooped up the Puffskein in his arms. "Give me just a minute or two, I'll put him back in his nest this instant," he added as he bent down to open his case, but he stopped almost immediately when he remembered Graves' presence.

"I have no jurisdiction whatsoever on the British soil, Mister Scamander, so fortunately for you, I will have to turn a blind eye to your… Methods," Percival said, still standing at the doorstep. Although the reports had been vague about a few things - on purpose, he suspected, Graves wasn't an idiot and he could easily deduce there was more to the eyes than just a suitcase.

Newt nodded, always avoiding eye contact, and opened the case to disappear inside.

"You can't help it, can you?" Tina said to him with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Miss Goldstein," Graves could only answer, pinching the bridge of his nose with closed eyes. He could feel a headache coming. "I do not remember agreeing to this unplanned trip to meet one of your friends and his illegal possessions."

She didn't answer back, not that she didn't lack the desire to do it.

Newt climbed back inside his office a few seconds later, his Bowtruckle proudly standing on his shoulder again.

He then led them towards the lift again, not even paying attention to the ruckus of the fourth floor behind him as if he was used to it. Percival and Tina certainly were not.

"Second floor, please," he asked the elf inside the lift. "Don't mind what happens at the Magical Creatures Department, we're holding a record of non life-threatening wounds for three consecutive months now," he added with a smile when he noticed their dubious facial expressions, as if it was something to be proud of.

"I wouldn't count what happened to David last week as not life-threatening…," muttered the elf behind them. Apparently, Newt didn't have anything smart to answer to that.

The bell rang, as Newt led them in the much calmer second floor, who had an atmosphere similar to the Macusa's own headquarters. Percival almost sighed in relief.

"Do you know who you are supposed to meet?" Newt asked. "I could leave you with…" He suddenly stopped, his eyes focused on someone before him.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

* * *

(I've lost count of how many awkward phrasings I had to modify before posting this. The problems you have when you're not a native speaker.)

You can take a look at what a Puffskein look like on the HP wikia.

Holy wow, I can't never thank you enough for all the subscriptions. An even bigger thanks for the people who left a lovely comments, each are really appreciated!

As you can see for the people who follow since the beginning, I've changed the summary and the tags a bit: I'm now orienting this story with both Percival/Newt and Tina/Newt. So, some kind of OT3 thing. (Not that I can actually show it because there isn't any Percival Graves tag, c'mon ffnet.) I'm not used to write romance, so I will mostly focus on their characters and their development upon growing close to each other (with a bit of plot of course), because apparently character studies are all I can write. (Also, don't expect smut, I don't write smut.)

(Also, we'll see with time if we close the loop with some Percival/Tina... We'll see, we'll see. I'm just here to write Tina and Percival getting protective and annoyed at Newt to be perfectly honest.)

Hope you enjoyed! Nothing much happened in this chapter haha. But then, as you probably understood, we're going back to Graves' POV next chapter, and we'll start to understand what he went through. (Hopefully, because I don't plan my works that much.)


	4. He thinks of how he is suffocating

_**Before:**_

Percival could hear them sometimes.

Just barely. Like whispers being carried by the wind, slipping between the hills and the buildings, too far to be understood, but close enough to tickle his ears and his mind, like an annoying bug that wouldn't go away. He would not pay attention to it, at least he tried to, because all annoying bugs were persistent enough to let their presence be known and he just couldn't sleep at night with those voices always murmuring their taunting words at his bedside.

"-aves? Graves?"

He would close his eyes and listen, even though he hated this feeling that grasped his heart and crushed his chest, telling him not to turn back and run as far away as he could. He was not a coward. He faced danger without a flinch, had stopped wizards and killers who used to terrorize the entire American wizarding community with only his wand and his might. He was the law itself, its hammer and shield who did not have mercy on its enemies. Percival Graves did not run.

Yet, he couldn't hide from himself the unease he felt when silence took over the rest, which wasn't unusual in his quiet, alone life. The last time he had truly been isolated, it had lasted days and days (and weeks he learned later) and the voices had started then. So far yet so close, it was as if every single person he had met had started talking at once and _aren't you tired Percival_ and _why are you always alone Graves_ and _you know, I don't think I've ever seen the boss genuinely smile even once_ and _you know why you're such a lonely one Percival, don't you?_

He knew none of it was real. He knew it was just a trick of his own mind that could not stand his own little prison built just for him by a deranged dark lord. He knew Grindelwald was having the time of his life keeping the head of the Director of Magical Security in a small box inside his pocket, as if he was some kind of trophy he wanted to show to the entire world but just couldn't.

And in the midst of it, just on the other side of that thin wall that kept him inside a silver box, he swore he could hear the voices of people talking to Grindelwald thinking they were talking to Percival Graves and he just wanted to scream.

He was right there.

"Percival."

"What?"

"I've been trying to get your attention for the past two minutes, Graves," sighed Seraphina Picquery, straightening herself on her chair.

They were in her office. Magical reliques surrounded them as proof of the power of the witch before him, portraits of great figures of the Macusa stared down at him with rolling eyes or suspicious glares and the whispers wouldn't leave him be even though he has been released from the hospital days ago.

 _"Just shut up, for fuck's sake,"_ he thought.

He cleared his throat, "My apologies."

"Are you sure you should have left the hospital so soon?"

"Well, if you want my opinion, we shouldn't let him go back to the field, look how well that went last time, the one who caught Grindelwald was a mere civilian!," a man with expensive looking and slightly out-of-date clothing snarled from his painting.

"Not to mention British," added grimly another one, this one wearing typical late eighteenth century coat and stockings.

 _"A British!"_ was murmured over and over, an echo roaming alongside the walls.

"Quiet." Picquery's voice was calm, but firm, effortlessly getting the silence she asked for. "It is not your decision to make, perhaps you should have stayed alive a bit more for it," she added with a stern look towards the portraits, who all wisely followed her 'advice', even though they clearly didn't think less of it.

Seraphina sighed deeply, and it was the only sound to be heard in the silence that Percival found to be agonizing. He usually didn't mind it, instead he gladly welcomed it, but silence had become something unsettling, creeping inside his body and bones until it reached his brain and heart.

He almost expected Grindelwald's jeering laugh coming out of nowhere.

"With Grindelwald in our cells, and soon enough in Azkaban," Picquery finally said after minutes and minutes of pondering, her elbows on her desk and her fingers crossed in front of her, "I can allow you to take back your position without further notice. As none of us managed to catch him, I clearly don't have the leisure to punish anyone who failed in their mission."

He sorely and slowly nodded.

"However," she added before he could respond, "you must understand that I am in a very fragile position at the moment."

Her eyes went to the portraits on the walls and it was more than enough for him to understand. He already knew his failure and theft of identity had spread mistrust inside the Macusa, and surely the former Macusa leaders were not the only ones with such pessimistic opinions of him. They were just the loudest ones among the crowd.

"Which is why your area of expertise will be restricted. Anything that has to do with direct handling of Grindelwald will be handled by someone else."

He tried to ignore the whispering voices' getting louder, instead discreetly gripping the armrests of his chair. He wasn't sure how to feel about not being able to approach the dark mage. A mix of relief and disappointment.

Along with the whispers, he tried to ignore his own feelings. What would it bring to him, facing Grindelwald again?

(Answers. Satisfaction. Vengeance.)

(But the law didn't seek vengeance.)

"Graves, this is a second chance I am giving you. There won't be a third."

He nodded once again. Picquery wasn't expecting an answer anyway. People who couldn't contest her authority were few, and Graves surely wasn't one of them. He got up from his chair as she gave him a sign she hadn't anything else to say and went down the few steps that elevated her desk in the room towards the door.

"Percival."

He stopped, slightly turned around. There was something different in her voice that had made him stop, and in the corner of his field of vision, he could see her shoulders somewhat hunched as she leaned back in her own chair. It was as if her mantle of president had slipped off her back and suddenly, with the softness deeply hidden in both her voice and silhouette, he was reminded that despite the bureaucratic bond that linked them, they both valued each other as wizards of renown and friends.

"I hope you understand."

"I do, Madam."

He knew it was all she could do, as much as he knew that her decision to give him back his position would give her a lot of troubles. It was a risk she was taking, for more than her career, he realized.

Yet, she still had the same look in her eyes, like everyone else did, that said _"You have failed us"_ and Graves had never felt more alone in his life.

* * *

 _ **Now:**_

Percival wasn't sure what to think of the man who supposedly had saved his life. At least, he had contributed to it.

As he had the wizard right before his eyes, he couldn't help but glance at the peculiar room he seemed to work in. Surely the last time he had witnessed such a messy office was that one time one of the new Aurors accidently set up a wind charm of some kind, effectively blowing a strong wind throughout the entire department and all the files (even even some furnitures) had went flying. Well, maybe he was over-exaggerating a bit, but still.

But there was more to the British wizard than the state of his room. If he used as a basis Goldstein's little stories she had told him every now and then during their weeklong journey between America and Great Britain, he had expected the curious character that Newt Scamander seemed to be. Even his interest for creatures seemed peculiar among his own colleagues, even if Great Britain certainly had different laws than America to deal with them. Nonetheless, Percival hadn't expected the stuttering, the eyes fleeing his own and even Tina's, the shyness of the man.

If he could sum it up: _"how could this_ boy _manage to fight and survive an encounter with the most powerful dark lord of our times?"_

He honestly didn't have a better word for him.

Also, if he and Goldstein could stop looking at each other like awkward teenagers, it would certainly make his day easier to stand.

* * *

He shook Dumbledore's hand with unease.

The man had greeted a dumbfounded Scamander with a kind hearted smile and a sparkle of playfulness. Not that much older than Percival himself, faint wrinkles could still be spotted at the corner of his eyes, showing he wasn't a young man anymore. But his presence was enough to draw attention, and Percival was suddenly reminded of Grindelwald. It wasn't exactly the same, but both men had the same stature nonetheless, and Percival could sense the energy of the wizard's magic.

"I see that you are doing great, Newton. Although Hogwarts will always be a home for all of its students, school has never been the right place for you," the man had said.

Of course Scamander had stuttered a bit then, but in a way that showed he had deep respect for his former professor, who seemed used to it. They engaged in conversation, small talk about life at Hogwarts that left the two Americans completely lost, and Percival surprised himself when he noticed the fond smile of the magizoologist, seemingly wandering in his old memories.

"Why don't you introduce your friends to me?"

"Oh, right, um, Professor, this is Porpentina Goldstein and Percival Graves, from the Macusa. Tina, Mister Graves, this is Professor Dumbledore."

The man himself didn't need an introduction, as he wasn't a simple Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. He had been offered the seat of Minister of Magic a few times already, which always stirred the Macusa's International Relations office. Although Percival didn't have the chance to meet him in person yet.

Now, he wasn't sure how to react. The more he looked, the more he saw Grindelwald and it sent shivers down his spine, he felt his blood boil just at the thought of the dark mage. Still, Dumbledore seemed totally different on the outside. Caring, even somehow protective about his former student, he had a warm presence that clashed with the coldness of the corridors and Tina seemed, although impressed, at ease.

But Percival had seen enough men lying in his life to immediately know when someone had a heavy burden to hide.

And Dumbledore didn't seem fooled by Percival trying to hide his suspicion behind a handshake.

"I wouldn't dare be rude, Professor," Newt finally said, thus breaking the connection between the two older men, "but may I ask why you're here?"

"I would hardly call you rude, Newton," Dumbledore joked. "I was kindly asked to assist with a famous case that seemed to be scandalous around here. But I think you know which one I am talking about, don't you?" His eyes went to Tina and Percival.

"You mean Grindelwald, Sir?" Tina said.

"Oh yes. To think that the man managed to slip through the cracks of the Aurors from all over the continent, only to be caught in America, I think our dear Minister will never recover from this scandal."

They all seemed not to have an answer for that, probably because both the Macusa's Aurors didn't want to cause a diplomatic incident. (Surprisingly, criticizing the British minister inside his own fortress, surrounded by countless wizards working for him, wasn't such a good idea.) Fortunately, Dumbledore just laughed.

"Don't mind me, I must be getting old, I tend to think out loud a lot these days. Surely, that team of investigators right here at the corner must be waiting for you, they have been standing over there for the past ten minutes."

Indeed, a duo of a wizard and a witch were watching them from afar. Percival didn't point out loud that they must have been too polite or afraid to dare interrupt someone of Dumbledore's reputation, but the professor looked aware and quite amused by it. Without having said a word to Dumbledore, Percival shook his hand again as a goodbye and Tina did the same before following him. Newt caught up a minute later, his cheeks slightly flushed, but with an amused smile on his face and Percival thought his professor must have teased him about an old story they had shared during the past.

After entering the room that would be used for their interrogation about their involvement in The Great Case of 1926, as some had started to call it (because _"The day some European random dude almost destroyed New York City because apparently Europeans hate us"_ , as suggested by an Auror from the Macusa, was too long and a bit problematic), their unexpected encounter with Dumbledore seemed already far behind. The room had black walls with a greenish shade to them. A simple metal table stood in the middle, chairs on both sides of it, the two investigators already seated. The pale light that came from a small sphere cast by one of them and that was now floating above their head and the lack of actual windows made the room much smaller than it was.

It was difficult to think that Newt's office and this room were part of the same building, and yet. Percival almost missed it, not that he would admit it.

"Let's get started then. We will only ask simple questions, to make sure that we can handle Grindelwald's transfer to Azkaban with the best conditions, which is why we want you to inform us about everything that can be useful," the witch started with a bored tone, but sure of herself and her duty. Two quills were flying next to them, ready to take notes, and surely there were other means to read between what they were going to say inside the room itself.

They all sat down, Percival between Newt and Tina. Then, the interrogation started and they began to tell the story.

Newt was fairly silent for most of it, Tina was actually the one doing the talking. Percival listened, having another point of view than all the reports he had read. He noticed that Tina was fairly elusive as well, not mentioning the reasons why Newt had been there in the first place or any of his creatures, as Graves suspected that the Puffskein, the Fairies, the Bowtruckle and the Niffler were only a glimpse of all the beasts he took care of. Although the British laws were less strict than the American ones, he was certain the Ministry wouldn't allow one of their own causing a ruckus with illegal beasts in a foreign country. But, as he had said before, it wasn't his jurisdiction.

Scamander spoke up a few times, a soft but determined voice breaking the conversation.

"It wasn't his fault, everything was Grindelwald's own doing," he said, defending Credence Barebone.

If the magizoologist seemed reluctant to make eye contact, Percival saw him stare right at the wizard who had mentioned the poor teenager's responsibility in the case, almost implying that it had indeed been his fault. But although Scamander had his head slightly tilted towards the floor, a few of his red curls hiding his eyes, he kept staring while discreetly biting his upper lip, daring the wizard to prove him wrong. He had spoken with little sound, but with such hidden strength that the wizard just nodded, making a sign for his quill that began to frantically note a few lines.

Next to him, Tina smiled despite herself and Graves was starting the understand why Dumbledore hold so much interest in his eyes when speaking to Scamander.

Then came Graves' turn.

"You didn't say much in your own reports about your… absence."

Percival immediately tensed. Next to him, both Newt and Tina sent him a concerned look, the latter almost lifting her hand in a comforting gesture, but she stopped herself before it could be noticed by anyone. His jaw tight, Percival then answered: "There isn't much to say."

Both Aurors lifted an eyebrow, as if one was a mirrored image of the other. They exchanged a look and a sigh.

"Mister Graves, I don't think you understand what is at stake at this very moment. We need to be prepared the best way we can and for that, we need as much information as possible."

"Well, maybe it would have been wiser to have done that much sooner, perhaps the mad man wouldn't have slipped past your ministry's ' _security_ '." He didn't know why he was doing this, but he just couldn't stop the harsh truth from coming out of his mouth.

"Mister Graves, I am going to ask one more time before this becomes a diplomatic incident: how and for what reason did Grindelwald captured you for weeks?"

Silence. Had he looked at Newton and Tina at his left and right, he would have seen them exchanging a scared glance, not knowing what to do.

"I believe we're done here." He got up without breaking eye contact with the witch, then turned around to get out of this room. He felt like he was suffocating.

"Mister Graves-" Percival didn't stop, not even knowing if it had been Scamander or Goldstein calling his name.

He stopped after a few feet, passing a hand on his face. The corridor had the same glacial, green atmosphere as the previous room.

He didn't have anything to say, because there wasn't much to say. He was not lying. His 'stay' at the mercy of the mad wizard had been nothing but silence and waiting, sometimes a taunting laugh that sounded too much like his own because he had stolen his face and voice and everything. But that was it.

"Already done?"

Percival turned his head with a glare, although on the outside he already seemed perfectly calm. Yet, he knew he couldn't hide anything from Dumbledore's piercing eyes.

"I had nothing much useful to give."

Dumbledore approached him with a knowing expression that was greatly infuriating. Percival allowed himself a second to calm down a bit more, remembering that the man in front of him should receive the respect he deserved.

"I think we can both disagree on that, can't we? But, I understand. I don't know if anything will be useful to them. Grindelwald's scheming mind shouldn't be underestimated, if you ask for my opinion."

"You don't sound so confident yourself about the success of his transfer, am I wrong?" Percival abruptly asked.

Dumbledore's smile flickered and for a moment, Percival had the impression that he was seeing the real man behind the polite and quite a bit playful demeanor.

"You know him, don't you?"

"... I used to think I knew him," Dumbledore finally said after a few minutes of silence. "But I certainly have enough memories of him to claim with confidence that we are not done hearing about him."

"So you do think that he is going to escape?"

"I do not think, I know." It seemed to be a foolish thing to say, taking into account all the security and personnel scheduled to be deployed on both sides of the ocean. Yet, Percival remembered himself saying the exact same sentence months ago and he understood it was more than a simple intuition.

"And when that happens, we will need to think outside of the box, to understand him."

As getting inside of the head of the maniac wasn't an idea Percival was really fond of (he already had seen a bit too much of it), he frowned, speaking up with an accusing tone. "What do you mean?"

"Grindelwald… is someone who wants to dominate. He has a very precise vision of the world and for that, he needs to bring down everyone else that stand in his path. Or had stood in it."

Oh.

"Scamander."

"Both the Macusa and the British Ministry underestimate him and certainly won't bother giving him a protection that Mister Scamander certainly won't stand, when all of their forces will be deployed to stop Grindelwald. Which can be understandable, how could a mere magizoologist, a disappointing version of his brother, bring someone like Grindelwald down? But he still did. So did Miss Goldstein, I suggest keeping an eye on her as well."

Well, this what a bit too much for Percival Graves.

"So you're just suggesting? That's it? Aren't you going to take part in the decisions to stop him? If you're so sure of him attacking Scamander, why won't you convince both ministries yourself?"

"Well, I do think I am getting a bit old lately," Dumbledore joked with a smile, but Percival would take none of it.

"It's as if you do want Grindelwald to roam free."

Dumbledore's smile didn't vanish. Even with the harshness that Percival showed towards the professor, the man still smiled, as if he was congratulating Graves for having found an answer to a particularly complex riddle.

"Do not talk about things you know nothing about, Mister Graves. It has been a pleasure meeting you. Keep an eye on Newton, it would sadden me to see something happen to one of my favorite students."

And with that, he left as swiftly as he had come here, as behind Graves, Tina was calling for him, Newt following right behind.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Yay for creating a section for Fantastic Beasts, finally!

I have to apologize for the long wait, I think it has been... two weeks maybe? I had final exams and then a bit of a writer block... Hopefully the next chapter can come faster, but I won't promise anything, I don't want to disappoint haha.

I also want to thank everyone that left a comment, it really keeps me going, thank you so much for the support, I didn't expect that much from this, thank you so much. Some of you were a bit excited about Dumbledore, I hope I did a good job in his portrayal! He is a fairly complex character and we don't know yet how he was like in the 1920s so I took some liberties while still trying to stick to the canon timeline, so he is around his forties here.

In any case, consider this chapter as a gift for the end of this year, have great holidays everyone!


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